The Brotherhood: Amour Magique

by Willa Okati

  And wouldn’t that be a change? Liam thought wryly.

  Bree swigged back the last of his vodka with a hearty gulp. Dabbing at the corners of his lips, he crossed his legs at the ankle and leaned forward. “We could still talk about sex,” he said nonchalantly. “Sex stories. What’s the worst experience you’ve ever had? Go around the circle.”

  Simon considered that. “If no one’s uncomfortable ...”

  Silence. A few men shook their heads.

  “All right, then,” Simon agreed. “You first, though.”

  Bree shrugged. “Fine. Okay, one time when I’d just turned twenty-one, I was out cruising the neighborhood and I heard about this gym that had glory holes, right?”

  Groans went up.

  “Yeah, yeah. I was young and stupid. What did I know? But it turned out they did have ’em, all right, and I got in line. Buncha gay men in front of me. I don’t know who they had behind those walls, but they had a rep as long as a horse’s wang.” Bree groped himself. “Finally, it got to be my turn, and let me tell you, I was pretty worked up by then. Ready to pop my button-flies. I undid the snaps, pulled myself out, and poked it in.”

  The men leaned forward. “What happened?” Alex adjusted his glasses.

  “What do you think? This hot, wet, tight mouth wrapped around me like I was a chocolate-covered banana and they were starving. God, whoever it was coulda sucked the chrome off a Harley.”

  Simon coughed again. “We are venturing into dangerous waters here,” he murmured. No one paid him any attention.

  Bree gave a disgusted grunt. “So there I am, my hands braced on the wall, just about ready to pass the point where I’m going to shoot my load, and what do I hear? Over all the sounds of these guys around me getting their own dicks licked, there’s sirens. A hellacious bunch of them. Cops busting in with their own big old sticks out, and I don’t mean cocks. I yanked back so fast that sucker nearly scraped off my skin with his teeth; then I tucked it back in and got the hell out of there. Don’t know how I got out without being arrested.”

  Simon frowned darkly. “You see what illegal shenanigans lead to?” he asked. “As your lawyer, I’d advise you not to tell that story to anyone outside this circle.”

  “Huh. As if there’d be anyone interested in hearing it these days. It’s not just a dry spell for me, it’s the fucking Sahara Desert.” Bree tapped one finger against his glass. “Hey, Christian, drinks slave. A refill?”

  Christian hopped up and found the bottle of vodka. Returning, he poured Bree another helping. He sniffed at it. “Does this stuff taste as bad as it smells?”

  Bree took a long quaff. “Lots of things smell bad and taste great, kid,” he said. “Or so I’ve heard.”

  Laurence threw a sofa cushion at him. “God, you’re crude.”

  “Christian’s gotta learn some time.”

  “Not from a slut like you.”

  “You have to be getting some to be a slut,” Alex said, crossing his ankles. “It’s been a while for me, too, but I have a story if you’re interested.”

  “Does it involve anything illegal?” Simon wanted to know.

  Alex shifted a little. “Not so much illegal as slightly low class.” He glanced around at Simon’s immaculate home. “But then again, Bree’s proven that a little trash talk doesn’t literally stain the walls.”

  “I object!” Simon protested.

  “Oh, shut up, Simon,” Allen said, tilting back his wine. “Alex, go ahead.”

  “There’s a gay bookstore on Tarrango Street. Do you know the one? It’s small, with a barred front door and a back entrance. They card, Simon; you should be glad to know that. At any rate, I decided I’d go check out the latest fiction one day. While I was looking around, I noticed a door I hadn’t seen before, off to one side. It turned out,” he said, leaning forward, “that there were porn video machines in a little room there. Nice, secluded little booths. All you needed were some quarters, and --”

  “-- and I think that’s quite enough of that.” Simon set his glass of rich Merlot down with finality.

  “I have a story,” David piped up in his soft voice. “One time, way back in high school, I wasn’t going to go to the prom because I wasn’t out yet, and I didn’t have any close female friends, you know? So while everyone else was dancing in all these tuxedoes and pretty dresses, I was hanging around in the park, sitting on the swings.” He blushed faintly. “This guy came along. He was hot. I mean, hot. All punked out, with his hair in spikes and an accent a little like yours, Liam. He had more piercings than I could count. He scared me a little at first, but then he sat down on a swing next to me, and we got to talking. He started going on about how hard it was to find good sex, and, God, I couldn’t tell him I was a virgin, so I just nodded and laughed like I knew all about it.”

  “Yeah?” Christian leaned forward. “I didn’t make it to my prom, either. What happened then?”

  David’s color deepened. “He wanted to have sex. I mean, real sex. But I’d never ... before, you know? I barely understood what he meant half the time. But he got me on the grass, and he had my pants off. My boxers, too, and he’d unbuttoned my shirt.”

  The rest of the men inched forward, as if they couldn’t help it. “What then?” Alex asked, licking his lips. “Did you do it?”

  “No,” David said, shamefaced. “He got all the way to trying to put a finger in me, and it hurt. I was so tight, you know? He pulled back, looking all disappointed, and said he wasn’t in the mood for fresh meat. So he zipped back up, helped me find my stuff, and he walked out of there, smoking a cigarette like nothing had happened.”

  Micah stared at David in disbelief. After a moment, he executed a series of hand gestures meant to indicate a noose drawing tight around the neck and a man being hanged. “God,” he said, his voice dripping with repugnance. “Once a loser, always a loser.”

  David turned scarlet. Simon lifted his candle. “Micah, one more word out of you, and you’ll be banned for the rest of the night. Do you understand?”

  Micah glared at him, then folded his arms and sank back, silent.

  “Good.”

  Liam frowned. Such unhappy thoughts; they would not do. He tugged at his Lilith’s Tear. These men had had their share of bad experiences, but surely they had enjoyed some good times, too? Perhaps it would do no harm to bring to their minds a few of the more pleasant experiences they’d had ...

  He twisted the Tear into a spiral on his neck and let it fly free, spinning in a circle.

  The men blinked.

  “It hasn’t been all bad,” Harrison said, fumbling a little. “I used to see this gentleman, Oliver, for dinner. Dinner, and perhaps later go back to his apartment or mine. It was the meals that mattered, though. We’d thumb through restaurant guides, hunt through gay newspapers for ads, and call each other, so excited to have found a new place.”

  His face softened. “Neither of us was out at the time, so it had a bit of a thrill to it, going to places together. We always liked long tablecloths, so we could slip our feet out of our shoes and brush one another’s arches, calves, and ...” He smiled. “Long tablecloths gave a restaurant an extra point, regardless of the food.”

  “And the sex?” Bree wanted to know.

  “Good,” Harrison said, expression thoughtful. “Not the best I’ve ever had, but ... comfortable. We liked each other; we were friends. Our lovemaking always felt natural and right.”

  “Tight right, or just plain right?” Bree asked.

  “I have no idea what you mean, but I enjoyed it.” Harrison refilled his white wine and took a sip. “I still wonder what happened to him.”

  “Did he dump you?”

  “I think so. He simply disappeared off the radar one day, leaving no traceable number, and moved out of his apartment. I missed him terribly for a long, long time. I still keep his picture in a trunk at the foot of my bed. Gone, but not forgotten.” Harrison lifted his glass a little. “To good times.”

  The Brotherhoo
d introspectively raised their own drink holders. “Good times,” they chanted back absently.

  Liam smiled. Yes, yes, this was far more like it. But more -- they needed more.

  “There was my first boyfriend,” Laurence said softly. “When I’d just come out, even though it could have cost me my job. He was a teacher at the same school I taught in. He came up to me in the lounge, gave me a hug and a kiss, and said he’d been looking at me for ages. We went out for a couple of years. The sex was wonderful. He could be tender, but he liked to play, too.”

  “What happened to him?” Micah blurted out, despite his promise of silence.

  “We parted as friends,” Laurence said, twirling his wineglass stem. “Amicable. He found someone else. I haven’t, since then. But life goes on, right?” He raised his goblet. “To good times.”

  “Good times.” Glasses clanked.

  “I knew this guy, once,” Bree said, sipping his vodka. “Rough, kinda. A little into leather, but not too much. We met a few times at his place for spankings and fun.” His grin sparkled. “But then again, he found someone else. Still, good times, huh?”

  “Good times,” the men chorused.

  “And me,” Allen, their oldest member at thirty-seven, chimed in. He smiled over his balloon glass of fine brandy. “My college sweetheart and I -- all in secret back then, mind you -- lived together for over ten years. We did everything together. Ate, shopped, jogged, ran a business, and slept in the same bed. The sex was ... I can’t describe it. There’s never been anything like it before or since. Tender. Gentle. Always erotic to the point of bursting, where I felt as if I were flying when we made love.” His grin, unexpected, sparkled with mischief. “He could be quite the naughty boy, too. He had a favorite pair of handcuffs he called ‘the Twins.’”

  Simon looked at Allen. “I think I remember what happened. He died, yes? Of cancer. You rebounded onto the man who did you wrong, which is how you ended up in our support circle.”

  Allen nodded. “I miss him,” he said. “The companionship, yes. But I also miss knowing that when I needed someone to hold or to tangle the sheets with, he’d be there.”

  Micah stirred a little. “I get that,” he said, words coming slowly. “Sometimes you just have the urge. You need someone. It’s better if they’re there for the long haul, but every now and then you just need to be needed. And I did not just say that, so no one better throw it in my face later. Understand?”

  Now. Now is the time to move. Liam edged forward in his chair, taking up a glass and the decanter of red wine on impulse. He poured himself a libation, secretly dashing a few drops on the rich Oriental rug in honor of Lilith. “Good times,” he said, raising his glass, “do not have to be over, gentlemen.”

  Simon looked at him, weary and worn. “You’re not going to bring up that club again, are you?”

  “I am. Why not? As even Micah admits, there are times when one needs to experience the bliss of a really good fuck. It is better for love to go along with it, but if the urge for sex is there, why fight it? Better to let go and enjoy it. Capture a moment and savor it. Come,” he urged. “I have heard many good things about Amour Magique. They may fly a bit under the radar, and they may not be exactly everyone’s preference, but they guarantee one thing: the promise of a hook-up, with only a little effort.”

  Liam turned to Simon, appealing to him. “You speak, often, of empowerment. Would it not be empowering to us, as men, if we go to this club? Shed our inhibitions and, for just one night, get down and dirty? Dance until we gleam with sweat, our arms around the stallion of our choice, and perhaps go home with this man for a night of the freedom we need so much?”

  Simon looked thoughtful. “Barring the concerns of safe sex, it’s an idea ...”

  “It’s better than an idea.” Collin had been surreptitiously making notes on his PDA while his bourbon went untouched, but now he looked up. “We can sit here and keep talking about sex for the next few years, or we can go out and get some.”

  Yes, yes! Liam gave the Tear another tap for good measure.

  “Do you ... do you think there might be someone there for me?” David asked shyly. “Someone who wouldn’t mind me not being a gym bunny?”

  “I am sure of it.” Liam reached out and was just able to place a gentle hand on David’s knee. “There are many, many men in this world, David. Amour Magique holds such a vast sampling, I am certain there will be one looking for someone just like you.”

  “Lots of men?” Christian and Bree asked at the same time, perking up. “All looking?”

  Laurence shifted. “It sounds like a meat market.”

  “Hardly. I would call it a meet market, instead,” Liam retorted. “I have visited this club on their special party nights. On an ordinary evening, the music thumps and pounds like a beating heart, but when they celebrate the union of man and man, the bliss of sexual congress, things change. There are many rooms, each of them fitted out to particular tastes. Casual bars, rooms to dance slowly, rooms to dance quickly. And rooms for making love, soft and tender, or hot and wild.”

  The men, even those with a flicker of trepidation remaining on their faces, all leaned toward Liam. Simon himself wavered. “You’re sure they’re legal?” he asked. “All their licenses are in order?”

  “Everything is up to code, and despite what you said earlier, they do indeed card.” A smile tilted Liam’s mouth. “There are so many to choose from at this club. Young and old, black and white, Native American and Asian, and others too numerous to list. Charleston’s finest, and those who come from even farther to find a good time.” A great deal farther.

  “What is the quote? Eat, drink, and be merry. Brothers, I propose we do exactly that. Let us celebrate one night at the club. I have a pass to get us all in, past the lines and bouncers. One night,” he coaxed. “Let us live proud and free, and celebrate not only who, but what, we are. What say you?”

  The men glanced at one another, going around in a circle. Expressions varied from doubtful to excited, from shy to enthused. It ended with Simon, who had his fingers tented beneath his chin, tapping them together. Liam looked at him expectantly. “Well?” he asked.

  “I say,” Simon mused out loud, “we put it to a vote. The winning party rules for all. If the vote is in favor of going to the club, then we go as a group. If the vote is against it, we don’t speak of this again.”

  Liam nodded. He could ask no more. It would be the easiest thing in the world to manipulate these men’s free will, but he wanted them to go of their own accord. To take their chances -- to live life once again, instead of simply sitting and discussing it. “I am agreeable.”

  “All right, then.” Simon took a careful look around the circle. “All in favor, take up your candle and lift it high. If you’re against it, leave your candle in its place. Ready? One ... two ... three ... go.”

  Bree, Quentin, David, Alex, Christian, Harrison, and Liam raised their candles. After narrowing his eyes, Collin lifted his, too. Watching them, Simon seemed to come to some sort of decision and took up his taper. Micah gave a snort of disgust, and Laurence blushed. Allen looked decidedly uncomfortable. Still, a look around the circle told them they were beaten.

  No, Liam thought, not beaten. That implies violence -- or force, at any rate. They have simply been assigned the task of enjoying themselves. Onerous, indeed! Once they reach Amour Magique, they will love it. I know it. He smiled at the men, tipping his candle. Not to offend, but to soothe. “Trust in me,” he said, encouraging. “You will have the time of your lives, gentlemen.”

  “How do we know we can trust you? Or this club?” Laurence blurted.

  Liam had been expecting the question. “You cannot. You can only choose to do so. And it appears the Brotherhood will be going out as a group, so I request your compliance. It will be a fine time, believe me. Please believe me.”

  Laurence subsided, biting his lip.

  Liam wanted to take his hand, but he was too far away. “I will do everything i
n my power to help make it a marvelous night,” he said. “I will guide you in what to wear, and how to act once you arrive. You are free to be yourselves, and I would ask nothing less, but there is a certain etiquette to clubs, and things you need to know. I suggest we go a week from this Saturday. Between now and then, I will be at your disposal for any questions you might have and anything you might need. I volunteer this freely. Is my offer agreeable?”

  David was the first to nod. The others followed suit, even, after a moment of thought, Collin and Simon. Micah remained with his arms folded and his eyes narrowed.

  Liam sighed mentally. You think you can handle anything on your own. Soon enough, you will learn.

  “We are agreed, then,” he said happily. “Soon, we will fly! Lift your glasses, men. To our upcoming enterprise! To music, to dancing, and to sex!”

  “To all of the above,” Quentin said with a grin.

  “To all of the above,” the men chimed. Liam patted David’s knee again and got a shy smile in return.

  The incubus exulted inside. He had won! His friends would see the inside of Amour Magique, and on a Saturday night, too. A night when creatures from out of this world would be there, hunting for someone to share their own unique magic. And yes, magic was what his Brotherhood needed. A spark of vitality to brighten their daily lives. An empowering romp between the sheets -- or up against the wall. Either would do.

  They would have a marvelous time; he’d see to it. With a week to prepare, and time to warn Silas that they were coming, everything should be in place for a night of enchantment that not one of the Brotherhood would ever forget.

  Gladdened to his very marrow, Liam lifted his glass of wine and drank deep. To life, to health, and to sex!

  He could hardly wait for the night to come.

  Chapter Four

  The music had changed. That was the first thing Liam noticed as he entered Amour Magique the following night, a Saturday. The strains of an Elven ballad, ancient and achingly poignant, filled the air. Pale lights of pastel shades dotted the floor, softening the inhuman, sometimes frightening features of the dancers who had shed their human disguises for the time being. A Freak night, indeed. Liam stood at the doors and inhaled deeply of all the otherworldly scents filling the place, letting the music wash over him in a purifying tide.